Four Hours
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Four hours only seems long when you're longing for what's waiting on you. Or when what's waiting is riding with you for once and somehow weasels their way outta taking a turn driving. But Paul's sure Steph's super tired...you know, from the whole lotta nothing she typical does. - One-shot.


"Steph. Stephie." She felt a gentle kiss pressed to her bare shoulder blade. "C'mon. You gotta get up, baby."

Hardly peeking an eye open, Stephanie didn't move in the slightest as she let out a low moan. She was a bit dazed, far too tired to be awoken, but could tell where she was as her head was pressed against one of her boyfriend's pillows. His scent was entrenched in the fabric, made up of his main cologne that he wore and sweat. It didn't matter how often she washed all of his sheets or how, about a month ago, she bought him new sheets; the scent would always return.

Which was fine.

Steph found that she was rather attracted to it, anyways, the smell of Paul.

Maybe a pheromone thing?

"Seriously, Steph." He was leaning over the bed, Paul was, and leaned down to nuzzle his head into the crook of her neck. "You gotta get up."

"Why?" She shivered a bit as he tugged the blankets she was using down.

"It's time for your drive of shame."

"Paul-"

"You gotta get back to Connecticut. Remember? You got shit to do in the morning."

"No."

"It's what you told me. You lie to me now?"

"I meant, no, I don't wanna go." Stephanie still hadn't spoken without groaning. "Anywhere."

"Don't think that's an option, babe."

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Never," he whispered in her ear as she felt the bed move a bit due to him less leaning over it then and more climbing into it. "But you weren't supposed to sleepover. Do I care if you do? No. But in the morning you're going to."

"You're just trying to get rid of me."

"Considering I was gonna go back with you-"

"Really?" That finally got her eyes opened. "You can?"

"It's what I was planning to do, when you told me that you had to leave tonight, yeah," he remarked, watching as she tenderly rolled over to blink up at him. "But if you don't go tonight, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if we go tonight, we'll get to your place early in the morning, I can rest for a bit, and then head out for my own shit. But if you wait until morning to leave, it won't be very convenient for me and you'll be driving out there all by your lonesome."

"My what-some?"

"The way I see it-"

"Are you just going to ignore what I asked?"

"-if I drive back with you right now, we get to spend even more time together than we would if you leave in the morning."

Stephanie reached out to rub her thumb all around his jawline, liking the rough feeling of his stubble. "Why do you wanna spend so much time with me? Huh?"

"I can't love my baby?"

"Mmmm, I guess so. You usually don't, to that point, but-"

"What? You kiddin'? I spend more time with you than any other woman I've ever had. And I've lived with women before."

"And you want to add onto that?"

"Obviously."

"I don't buy it." Steph's thumb moved to push against his bottom lip then, heavily. "At all."

"You don't gotta buy it," he remarked, turning his head so that her hand fell away from his face. "All I'm doin' is what you asked me to to do. Remember?"

"No."

"You stressed, very heavily, that you were gonna take a nap and to wake you up in three hours. It has now been three hours. And here I am, trying to be a good boyfriend, make you go home, and you think I'm kicking you out."

"Kinda feels like you are."

"We can stay." He was shifting then, to fall into the bed, even though he was still in his jeans. Only his jeans. "If that's what you want. I don't care. You're the one that has to be somewhere else. I can leave from here, leave from your place; don't matter. You though, if you're late, well, you burned up all your second chances with your father on me."

"Damn," she mumbled as she turned to bury her head in her pillow once more. "That's right."

"You're gonna lose your inheritance, Steph, if you're not too careful," he tsked. "And, babe, I'll be the first to say it; you're hot."

"Thanks," she yawned disinterestedly, tugging the blankets up around herself once more. Besides, she knew he wasn't done. Not without a joke.

"But you're not hot enough to carry yourself without some money attached to your name. Don't get me wrong; you're still a step above most. But broke? You're not on my level anymore and I don't date down."

"But I'm expected to date down because-"

"Who said you are? I just said we were equals."

"Are we though? Really?"

"In what way am I not your equal? Money? Or looks?"

"Neither, as far as I'm concerned."

"This is bullshit."

"And your personality could use a bit of work."

"You're about to have to drive home on your own."

"I am, remember? In the morning."

"Steph." He made a face over at her. "You know we're going. I know we're going. If we weren't, you'dda rolled over and gone back to sleep by now."

"It's kinda hard when you keep bugging me."

"You sleep through all sorts of shit I do. Sleep through my music, me talking on the phone-"

"Loudly, normally."

"Hey," he said, making a face over at her. "I only do that when I'm on the phone late at night, so you know for sure I ain't talking to other women. Or at least not about anything interesting."

"You're dating so far up, I know that you aren't, so it's worthless anyways."

"You sure are full of yourself."

"And you're not?"

"I can be." He tapped at his chest. "I mean, just look at me."

"You're saying that you're better looking than I am?"

"I said that we're equal," Paul reminded with a shake of his head. "You're the one with all this better stuff."

"I'm a McMahon, Paul; I'm better than everyone."

"Would you just roll outta bed already? So that we can go?"

"Will you buy me a milkshake?" came her pitiful whine as she peeked an eye open. "A big one?"

"If we can find a place open, you can buy yourself one, while you still have the inheritance to afford it."

"You're not raising your stock here any, you know, babe."

Heh.

Still, with in the half hour, they were locking up and heading out. Paul would be driving down to some house show and, as they left his place, he asked, "You sure I can take your car all the way there? And you'll just be fine?"

"I'll use my inheritance to figure it out."

Paul shook his head a bit as he said, "We could just take my car-"

"And then leave mine here, even further from me?"

"See, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd just quit working at the company and follow me around like a good little bitch."

"Funny." Stephanie made a face over at him as she shifted in her seat. She'd brought a blanket and her pillow with her and was trying to find a comfortable way to the rest. "I always think the same thing about you."

"Ha," he replied, but it was dry. "You know, I wish you'd have offered up this lifestyle _before_ I threw away my entire reputation to keep fucking you."

"Tarnished reputation is worse than being my bitch?"

"I'm assuming being your bitch would come with far more perks."

He got a face made at him for that. "Like what?"

"I dunno." Paul shrugged as he relaxed into his seat. He'd be driving for awhile. "I'm assuming some sort of salary. To compensate me. Nice dinners. You would buy me cool things. Watches. Motorcycles. Tickets to baseball games. Basketball. Football."

"I'm not...buying a Mail Order Bride, Paul. You'd be a bitch. Not a prized possession."

"I feel like I should be prized."

"For someone I'm dating that's beneath me?"

"It sure is funny, ain't it? To joke like this? When it's me that we're ragging on and not you?"

"Oh, if you said something like this to me," Steph told him with a shake of her head, "I'd, like, cry and make you apologize."

"Figured."

"You care more about my feelings than I do yours and I care more about praising you than you do me. It balances."

"If you don't care about my feelings-"

"As much as you do mine."

"-then why praise me? Isn't that to boost my feelings?"

For a moment, Steph was quiet. Then, annoyed a bit, she said, "It's late. Don't argue with me."

"Think you care more about me in general than I do you."

"You said it. Not me."

"No. I meant that's what you think. I care way more about you. In every instance."

"I praise you way more than you praise me. Admit it."

"You praise me to my face, fine."

"And to anyone and everyone."

"But me? I brag you up to everyone I know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Name one instance."

Paul only glanced over at her with a frown. "You know, this is the exact reason I actually don't brag you up. Always questioning."

"Knew it."

"And are you warm enough over there or what?"

Including the blanket she was snuggling under, rather than getting truly dressed when they left his place, Steph had just slipped on some shorts, and undershirt, and tugged on his hoodie. To Paul, that seemed a bit excessive.

But Steph, who was shivering, just a bit, it was anything but.

"It's cold out."

"It's almost fucking June, Steph."

"At ten at night. The temperatures drop."

"To what? Thirty degrees?"

"And you won't turn on the heat-"

"Are you sick? Because all joking aside, that would be a real bitch move, to get me sick too."

"How have I gotten you sick?"

"Seriously?" Ticking his tongue, Paul said, "You slept in my bed-"

"Which you won't be sleeping in again, for long enough that all my germs will be long dead."

"-you're wearing my hoodie-"

"Well, you're not getting this back, so that's not a real issue."

"- _and,"_ he finished, "you let me fuck you senseless-"

"Pretty full of sense, thanks."

"-and get all your nasty sickness on me. I'd be way more considerate than that. Steph."

She sat up a bit, staring hard at him, but he only kept his eyes on the road, pretending to be oblivious.

"Okay, number one-"

"Numbering won't help you win, Steph," he said with a shake of his head. "At all."

"-we are not going to play the who's more considerate game. Because I win."

"How?"

"Um, try I nursed you back to health? When you had your quad injury?"

Snorting, he remarked, "Debatable."

"Not really. I went out of my way to care for you. That's consideration. What considerate thing have you done for me?"

"I-"

"Nothing."

"You have to let me ans-"

"Number two-"

"No. Steph-"

"I'm not sick, so therefore I can't make you sick."

"Still more considerate than you."

"Are not."

"Am to."

"And number three-"

"So no explanation then, for how you're not sick even though you're all bundled up in blankets and-"

"One blanket, thanks."

"In the middle of summer."

"Beginning."

"Whatever."

" _Number three,_ " she began again as he only rolled his eyes. "If either of us got the other sick, it was definitely you."

"How do you figure?"

"You freaking slobbered all over me tonight when we were-"

"I thought," he grumbled, shifting in his seat then as he lost his jovial tone, "that we weren't going to mention that."

"What gave you that idea?"

"You never brought it up," Paul griped. "During or after."

"Now is after."

"The time has past."

"How? It was literally tonight, before I took my nap."

"If you didn't mention it during then it wasn't important."

"I was a bit busy during," she said while making a face. "What was I gonna do? Tell you to stop so we can discuss how you totally slobbered-"

"I was going to lean down and whisper something in your ear and I just drooled a little."

"You drooled a lot."

"Who could judge a lot or a little in the matter of drool or slobber?"

"Me."

"Of course."

With a grin, Steph dropped her blanket a bit so that she could reach over and finally flick on the radio. "If it covers my whole cheek-"

"I didn't drool that much."

"You totally did. And that has to be some kind of sickness. So if I'm sick-"

"You sure like my spit everywhere else," he replied. "But suddenly your cheek of all places is off limits?"

"It was never on limits, so there's no suddenly. And it was pretty gross."

"Could we just stop talking about it?"

"No."

"It's not very considerate of you to continue on."

"How considerate is it to spit on someone?"

"I didn't spit." Paul paused, thinking. "I was so overcome that, sure, I salivated a bit-"

"You should work it into your whole act. Slime people."

"It wasn't slime. It was just spit. Drama queen."

"You do spit, already, in your entrance. It wouldn't be hard to work in the slime."

"It wasn't slime."

"Disgusting."

"You know," he grumbled with a glance over at her, "you sure are talking a lotta shit to the guy who controls if you get your milkshake or not."

"Thought I was buying it for myself?"

"Bullshit. If I'd asked you for some cash for it, you'dda been pissy."

"I didn't say I wouldn't have been annoyed. Just that I thought you said I was going to have to."

"I mean, I'm not going to deny you the right to pay for your own-"

"Considering you're probably gonna make me pay for gas-"

"Now you really are bullshitting." Shaking his head, he asked, "When have I ever made you pay for gas?"

"I dunno. I don't keep, like, a log of it or anything."

"But you keep a log of my spitting habits."

"Slime habits, sure."

"I never make you pay for gas."

"Doubt that."

"Name an instance."

"The way I've been aggravating you tonight, probably gonna have one pretty soon."

His smile grew as he held down a chuckle. "See, Stephie? Already having more fun, in the car, huh? Not even on the highway yet and it's already better than being in bed."

"I'll pass my judgment when I have my milkshake in my hands."

It wasn't long. They had to stop to get gas, anyways, and there was a fast food place right beside the station, so as Steph went to get that (with a five she pulled outta his wallet, mind you), he filled up the tank while waiting.

"You want me to drive?" she asked though she was climbing into the passenger side without much thought. Leaving the door open, she stared out at him while sucking at her straw. He only stared at her from over his shoulder, as he stood at the gas pump, fighting a grin.

"Considering you're already getting into the car-"

"I'll drive the second half."

"Yeah, sure."

"Just let me rest for two hours and then we'll switch."

"Whatever you say, princess."

Steph did rest. He'd give her that. After finishing her milkshake, she hunkered down with her blanket and pillow in what he thought had to be the most awkward position ever and drifted off.

Which was fine. Paul only popped one of his CDs that had been left in his girlfriend's car into the player and focused on driving for a bit. Not exactly what he had in mind for the nearly four hour journey, but at the same time, not wholly bad either. Besides, she didn't sleep forever. Just for, oh, two and a half hours.

"Give or take," she grumbled when, after a loud yawn, he grumbled this estimation to her. "Mmmm. Still sleepy though."

"Put some new music on, will ya?"

As she flicked through her CDs, Steph had some more yawns before she said, "You live too far away, baby."

"How would you know? You slept for most the ride down there."

"I mean," Stephanie kept up, "I do like riding in the car. Like, a lot. It's a lot of fun, I think."

"Yeah." Paul, of course, had long lost the novelty of car rides given all his years in the industry. "Fun."

"I'm, like, the best person to travel with. Aren't I?"

"I mean, you're not horrible, but-"

"Still," she sighed as, finally, she picked a CD and moved to change them out. "Having to go four hours back and forth between our places is annoying."

Shrugging a bit, Paul only said, "I'm hardly ever home anyways. Neither of us are."

"I know. That's what makes it suck even more."

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Steph began, taking in a deep breath as she moved to place her CDs back in the little console slot beneath the radio, "we don't have to spend every day around one another or anything, but some times, when I'm at home, it'd be cool to just be able to call you and see if you wanna hang out. Not, oh, let me call Paul and see if he's busy and if II can drive four hours to go see him."

"Four hours really isn't that long, Steph."

"It is to me. And you don't ever hate it?"

"I don't hate things I can't change. Which is why I don't hate this song." Reaching over, he pressed a button on the stereo, switching to the next song. Partially to be cute, of course, as it got Steph to make a face at him, but also because he fucking hated it.

Steph burnt the worst CDs. No consistency.

"It's not completely unchangeable, you know."

"No, the CD pretty much is, Steph."

"Paul."

"What?"

"That's not what I meant."

For a good minute, they both just sat there, him driving, her glancing at him and then away, waiting.

"Like, what, Steph? You want me to get an apartment or some shit? In Connecticut?"

"No," she said slowly, taking that whiny tone quite easily. She always used it when they were talking about more than their typical frivolous garbage. It wasn't so much that she would be trying to elicit pity out of him, but rather it seemed to just be her 'I'm stressed and don't know what to do about it' voice. And nearly everything that wasn't frivolous could stress Steph out. "That would be stupid."

"I think so too."

"I just… I like being around you is all."

"We spend a lot of time together," he remarked. "A lot."

"I know."

"It would be cool, I guess, if we lived closer together."

"It really would."

"But..."

"We do stay with one another a lot though." Apparently no longer cold, she moved to drop her blanket on the floorboard. "We share hotel rooms nearly every single time."

"I'll go back to your place a lot or you'll come to New Hampshire with me-"

"I know. It would just be nice, is all, if we lived closer."

Paul wasn't stupid.

In any shape of the word.

He knew what Steph was hinting at (even if she wasn't quite sure what she was hinting at).

"I have a house, Steph," he said simply. "In New Hampshire. A nice one. That I like."

"I know."

"And you have a nice house. That you like."

"Yeah."

"So… I don't wanna sell my place, Steph. At all. I won't. I like it. Being there. And you like where you are. You have to be where you are, really, since you're up at the office so much. And…"

He did that thing then, Paul did, where he got real silent and hardly sounded like he was breathing for a good twenty seconds before, with little warning, blowing heavily through his nose. Together for over a year, Steph had learned this more or less meant that he'd come to a decision.

"It sucks," he decided with a bit of a nod. "But it is what it is."

So they sat there in silence. Stephanie took to leaning up against her door, staring out the window as they drove down the interstate, sighing loudly once before saying no more. This got Paul to glance over at her a bunch as well as tap his thumbs against the steering wheel.

"What would change, Steph?"

"Hmmm?"

"If we...lived together," he explained slowly, actually labeling what they were talking around finally. "We kinda do already, I feel. I mean, we plan out our time together, don't we? I don't stay at your place all the time and you don't stay at mine, but we do enough that-"

"It's not the same."

"Why?"

"It's just not," she said with a frown. "It's like… Yeah, we spend most our time together, but your home, ultimately, is back in New Hampshire. When we're fighting, you go there. You don't stay at my place. It's not our place. You go back to yours. You have some stuff over at my place, but not enough to stay there long term."

"Why do I have to be the one to move in with you?"

"You don't. I didn't say you did. But I work so much up at the office for Daddy that-"

"I have things in New Hampshire too, Steph, that I have to do."

"Alright then. Never mind."

"It's just like you're sitting over here, expecting me to be the one to initiate everything-"

"I'm not. I said never mind. Forget it. Things are fine. I was just talking, is all."

But that wasn't all. And Paul knew that. Maybe her comment had been in passing, but her intention hadn't. Clearly this was something that Steph had thought about and considered.

"If you wanna live together, Steph-"

"No. Don't. Because now it's, like, I'm making you do it or something, which I wasn't trying to do, and-"

"I'm gonna live with you eventually, baby, so there's no making me do anything. And there's none of that ever, for the record. I do whatever the fuck I want." Reaching over, Paul turned down the stereo a bit as he said, "I'm serious about you. We're gonna be together a long time, the way I see it. Eventually, we'll be in a place together. So...if you want it to be now, I can move more of my shit down to your place."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. If you want it. And it's not like it wouldn't ever happen, is what I'm saying. And I'll still keep my place in New Hampshire, for now. For awhile, probably, actually, and if something goes wrong, we can just take a big step back. If we have to. But this isn't really that big of a step for us. It's just not one that...I thought we'd be talking about tonight."

"I just wish you lived closer."

"As in only a sliver of the mattress away."

"You're the one that had to have money and a home and a family."

"Right. So if I was a homeless drifter-"

"I'dda brought you into my home a long time ago."

"This certainly is an interesting development."

"I'm not saying I'd pull any guy off the street," Steph was quick to clarify. "Just you, specifically, if you were in the situation."

"Where does a princess meet such a vagabond, exactly?"

"A what?"

"And you know that if I was homeless, there's no way that I'd still, you know, have enacted such great mass and physique."

"Your hair would probably still be nasty and greasy though."

"Nasty?"

"And greasy."

"It's one thing, Steph, to pressure me into moving in with you-"

"I was just saying that four hours is-"

"-but when you insult my hair, I lose it. I'm liable to push your ass right outta this car."

"Kick me outta the car and..."

"And what? Huh? Stop giggling and finish your fucking line, Steph. How are you even on TV, if you laugh from your own jokes? Lame. Worst diva. No wonder you get booed. This is why Hunter left you."

"Is not."

"As someone who has a secret insight to the man, Steph-"

"Shut up."

"That's another reason he left you. Mouthy, insulting, _and_ annoying. I don't know how I put up with you, personally."

"You know, this is my car," Steph reminded, making a face over at him. "You wouldn't be kicking me out of anything. It would be your butt trying to hitch a ride. Not me."

"I'd like to see you try to kick me outta this car."

"I'll slap you so hard you'll escort yourself right out of it."

"You slap me, I can't say what I'll do to you."

"Oh yeah?"

"I might drag you out of the car by your hair and pin you. Right in the middle of the street."

"Why do I feel like you won't get off of me after the mandatory three seconds?"

"You should know three seconds isn't near long enough for me to get off ya."

"Right," she agreed. "Sixty, though, tops."

And he didn't wanna, but damn, he started grinning then, trying to fight off chuckles as Steph only beamed over in her seat.

"Worst superstar ever. Say your line, Paul."

"God, I fucking love you. You little shit." Glancing over at her, he finally grinned, fully, before saying, "So much."

"Don't curse at me when you tell me you love me." Steph was smiling too, as she moved to turn back up the radio. "It sends mixed messages."

"I do fucking love you. And you are a little shit. You're just my spoiled little shit. And you'll be cursing at me too when you see just what it is that I'm moving in first."

"Uh, try your clothes."

"Nope."

"Then what?"

"Well, other than the necessities, such as the old couch I have in my garage that I've had since I was in my twenties-"

"No. I hate it. You have to get rid of it. It stinks, you found it on the side of the road what? Five years ago?"

"It's a good luck charm."

"Find a new one."

"I'll put it in your basement."

"No."

"While we're on the topic of the basement-"

"Paul-"

"-I'm gonna need a gym."

"I have a gym."

"You have a treadmill and some weights."

"What more do you need?"

"And they're legit just for your father when he gets kicked out and wants to stay at your place for the night. To distract him and keep him from sneaking through your shit in the middle of the night."

"I run on the treadmill. Sometimes. Jerk."

"And I have a pool. Do you have a pool? No. We need a pool."

"I'm not building a pool on a house that I'm not living in for the rest of my life. Next house, we can find one with a pool."

"Next- No. No pool, no Paul."

"Do you even use your pool?"

"Are you kidding?"

"No. I'm honestly not. I think we've gotten into it, like, once."

"Twice, at least."

"Not that I recall."

"It's status thing."

"Uh-huh. Aren't you the guy that always talks about how in touch you are with where you came from?"

"I can remember my roots and still reach for the sun, Steph. That's how trees work."

"What?"

"My bike and car also belong in the garage. Alone. Without yours."

"How do you figure that?"

"You'll scratch them. And you can always just have your father buy you another."

"My father didn't buy my car."

"He finessed the company into paying you so much for doing so little."

"Now you're just making up words. And I've probably worked harder than you ever have in your entire life."

He laughed loudly that time. "Good one, princess. Tell that one more often. Love it."

"I'm pretty good catch, huh? An inheritance and hotness that bring me up to your level _and_ humor?"

"I's kiddin' about all that, you know." That time when he reached over, Paul's hand landed on her knee, squeezing tightly before drifting up her thigh, where it came to rest. "We're more than equals, baby. You're far above me."

"Don't know about that."

"Then I guess I should do a better job of getting you to realize this, huh?"

"Realizing that you're not good enough for me?"

"Don't say it that way. Just the way that I say it. Sounds good the way I say it."

Smiling, she asked, "Was that it then? For all your qualifications that I'm not going to bother writing down?"

"I want skylights. A lot of them. All over the house. And I'm gonna move in my big TV to the living room. And I have quite the wardrobe, Steph."

"You own a bunch of faded jeans and even more faded t-shirts."

"You're forgetting the fraying jeans and even more fraying t-shirts."

"Hardly a wardrobe."

"When you collect enough of them it is." Then, with a nod of his head, Paul said, "If all my demands and needs are met, with adequate space requirements, I'll be moving in as soon as you're ready."

"Considering I'm not doing any of that-"

"Horrible girlfriend."

"-you can move in whenever _you're_ ready."

"Alright," he conceded with a shake of his head, "but when my rocking bod don't look nearly as tight because I can't take laps in my pool-"

"You never use your pool! And gyms have pools. My father has one. You can use his. Or go back to your place the one time a year you want to use yours-"

"I'll have to hire someone. To check on my house. More often than they do when I'm out anyways." Paul made a face. "I hope you're planning compensation for this."

"And I hope you know that you're helping with bills."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Bitches don't pay bills. They just hand out real good sex. It's your job to pay my bills. It's the whole point!"

"Yeah, well, since there's none of that being handed out-"

"I lied. My hair was one thing; now you're going too far."

"You sure are a whiny little bitch."

"Besides," he continued, lifting his head, "we both know who the real bitch is around here. Don't we, Ste- Steph, no. Don't go back to sleep."

"I'm not." But she was. Curling back up in her seat, she yawned as she said, "Nope, never."

"You know, sometimes I do feel like your bitch."

"Well, I only won the moving in argument without ever making an argument, so-"

"Just shut it." Flicking the stereo to the next song, he hunkered back down for the rest of the journey. "We'll be home soon."

When they got there, it was a little before two in the morning. Steph only made it to her couch before falling back down, still quite drowsy, while Paul went to find himself something to eat before waking her up and forcing the woman to come get in bed with him.

"Mmmm. What time you gotta be at the office?" Paul asked as Steph burrowed under the blankets of her own bed, which, unlike his, always smelled nice. Always. Because Paul musk on his was quite alluring, but not exactly what she wanted to drift off to every evening.

Maybe she hadn't thought the whole moving in together thing through…

If him living with her ruined her sheets, his stinky old couch would be the only place he'd be sleeping.

"Nine-thirty, really," she yawned as he flailed out, seemingly just to annoy her.

He did a lot of things just to annoy her.

"What about you?" she asked. "When are you gonna leave for- Hey, where are you going?"

"Maryland."

"Mmmm," she moaned. "That's another four- Did you say Maryland?"

"Yep."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"'Oh, Steph,'" she mocked in his voice, eyes opening in annoyance, "'I wanna go right now for you, baby. So that you make it home on time. So we can spend time together.' Bullshit, Paul. This was just the halfway point to where you're going. You just wanted to be able to crash here for a few hours."

"Yeah," he said slowly as his eyes drifted shut, unconcerned. "So?"

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Because then you'dda been all annoying the whole way down here," Paul told her with a slight nod of his head. "Talkin' about how you're going with me because you were so nice and courteous and shit. That you were doing a favor for me. And not the other way around."

"It wasn't the other way around! At all! I gave you company for four hours."

"And I did you too."

"But under false pretenses!"

"So? The way I see it, we're equal."

"We're not equals." Rolling over then, she gave him her back, though it was more to hide her grin from his shut eyes. "In any thing."

"We're gonna be equal dwellers in this house soon enough."

And he shifted too, curling right up tot her back. It wasn't like the idea necessarily excited Paul (in fact, it felt quite choking), but he knew it was the next step, the right step, and most importantly, the only one he was going to be able to take without making Steph upset. They had to make the jump sometimes. And if there was anything that he knew about his relationship with Steph, it was that it was far stronger than any he'd had before.

"Dwellers?"

"You're vocabulary ain't that small, woman." And her ear got a kiss before, leaning down, he pressed a much sloppier one to her cheek, getting Steph to shove at him and grumbling about his disgusting 'slime'. "Now go to sleep. Your stupid alarm's gonna be waking us up far too soon."

Resting her much smaller hand atop the one he had resting over her stomach, Steph sighed, "I'm glad we came back here for the night."

Paul, beyond tired and knowing the little sleep he'd be getting would be of little to no help, had to admit, Steph's sheets were much nicer than his own. And her bed. And just being with her. Always being with her.

"Yeah," he agreed though she was already drifting off. "Me too."


End file.
